I feel it creeping in. Longer sleep and slower thoughts. Anxiety raises and overwhelms. Second guessing all my dreams. Feeling darkness calling me. No strength to fight it, I let it come and hope everything doesn’t come undone. Worry like it’s oxygen. Smiles fade then dissipate. Who you know will fade as well. Welcome to the perfect hell.
I’ve been feeling the crash today. Mania is fading into normalcy. The beauty in all fades into regular vision. The high is wearing off and there is a certain amount of withdrawal that comes from losing mania. It’s a sting. It’s a sadness to come to realize that the person you are in mania is a temporary version and sometimes just a downright delusion. I haven’t made any outright poor decisions if anything I’ve made a lot of good decisions that needed to be made but I didn’t have the grip to do it. It’s not that kind of crash this time. It’s feeling fake. It’s feeling like you don’t know who you really are. Am I this confident person mania makes me believe I am, or am I this anxiety ridden person depression makes me feel?
I’ve always valued honesty above anything in life. Openness and honesty. I can’t even, myself, pinpoint who I am. To be someone who values realness so much and to feel fake is torture.